Chasing Hits, Losing Voice

Once widely celebrated as powerful outlets for artistic self-expression and community, concerts, live performances, and music festivals allowed artists to connect with fans on an emotional level, generating excitement and anticipation surrounding each live event. However, by the 1990s, the nature of concerts began to shift significantly, as large-scale sponsorships, branding, and corporate influence started to redefine the purpose and presentation of live music (Mason 1). This resulted in many artists filtering the messages they wanted to convey to their fans, simply to gain corporate approval which would result in more funding for their shows or more income overall. In the Huff Post article, “The Commercialization of Music Festivals and the Rise of Super Concerts”, Pete Mason discusses how artists gradually became resistant to incorporating messages of social justice into their live performances. This shift contributed to a decline in the perceived authenticity of concerts, as performances increasingly adopted a more commercial and polished presentation for fans (Mason 1). Mason defines the more common form of music festival or concerts that we see today as the “Super Concert”, where he describes an increasing compliance from artists towards corporate influence. Mason describes the “Super Concert” as events that seem like music festivals, but lack the grassroot history of the event (Mason 1).

The display of grassroot activism, a form of activism where community members come together to establish change, through the form of concerts was previously exemplified by the band “BandAid” in the mid-1980s. During this time, there was a dire humanitarian crisis in the form of a famine overtaking Ethiopia (Icon Radio 1). Images of populations facing starvation were broadcasted through the news, which initiated a call to action. This is when Irish singer, Bob Geldof, the frontman of a band The Boomtown Rats, was motivated by a BBC News report and wanted to use his talent to contribute to the cause. He then organized a band which consisted of British and Irish musicians. With “Band Aid”, Geldof wanted to establish lasting change and therefore organized a marathon of concerts known as “Live Aid” (Icon Radio 1).

Passionate activism through the form of music and concerts can also be seen through the band USA for Africa’s production of the song “We Are the World” during the 1980s. The song itself brought together renowned artists such as Willie Nelson, Diana Ross, and Billy Joel to raise over 100 million dollars to fight famine in Africa (Ramirez 1). These initiatives are examples of grassroots activism which arose from the artists’ intent to create social change and improvement. This form of activism highlights how cultural influence and celebrity status were once effectively mobilized for humanitarian causes, demonstrating the power of collective action in the entertainment industry. It also reflects how music can transcend its commercial function and serve as a unifying force, encouraging public empathy and participation in global issues.

Concerts have now grown to succumb to corporate pressures. Social change in the form of concerts are now infrequent and are tied to a larger corporation which dilutes the original intended message from the artist as seen in the case of the “Live 8” and the “Global Citizen Festival” concerts, in which a large lineup of top artists is curated to raise money for charity (Reynolds 1). This partnership with a corporation causes artists to be indirectly involved with activism, rather than promoting a cause or message firsthand. Instead of using their platform to speak out directly, artists often rely on the branding or messaging of the company they’re aligned with. As a result, their support for social causes may appear more passive or symbolic, distancing them from the personal, grassroot activism that once defined earlier concert performances. Large scale promoters offer a calculative approach towards representing artists in the music industry, meaning that promoters see artists as pawns in a larger scheme where profit is prioritized over the authenticity of the artists themselves. This leads to a loss of community, originality, and the familial atmosphere that once defined concerts and music performances (Mason 1).

Corporate companies and record labels see this lack of originality as a site for profit. Partnering with artists who are willing to prioritize replication over their original production of ideas for songs or albums, allows for corporations as well as artists to make a greater profit. Coachella and Burning Man, once symbols of countercultural expression, have now become prime examples of how corporate influence has stripped music festivals of their original purpose. Coachella, which began as an alternative music festival that catered to indie and underground artists, has transformed into a multi-million-dollar event driven by brand sponsorships and influencer marketing that prioritize exclusivity over musical appreciation (Darby 1). Burning Man, originally founded on principles of self-expression and anti-commercialism, has undergone a similar transformation, with billionaires and celebrities creating luxurious, exclusive camps that undermine the festival’s original purpose (Peterson 1).

Aside from enterprise authority reducing the authenticity of music festivals as a whole, the increasing prevalence of corporate influence in the music industry has increased pressure on individual artists to produce a “quick hit” instead of focusing on experimenting and developing their original identities in the eyes of the public. This ultimately leads to a stagnation in an artist’s growth as a creator. Music is an art form that requires risk taking and originality for growth, but the over emphasis on commercial success ruins this progress. As analyzed by Moises Mendez in the Fast Company article “Musicians say their labels are pressuring them to go viral on TikTok,” several musicians have complained about the pressure from their labels to produce viral moments on the platform. Halsey, Charli XCX, FKA Twigs, and Florence Welch have all recently made videos on the platform voicing their discomfort with the need to have constant hits in order to gain approval by their labels (Mendez 1). In Halsey’s case, they made a video claiming that they wanted to release a song but couldn’t due to restriction from their label, since the label wanted to create a “fake viral moment,” (Mendez 1). This proves that in the music industry today, corporations and labels are focused on what is best for themselves and the artist in a monetary manner. Even though Halsey’s desire to share their identity with fans was clear, it was shut down by their label. The identity of the artist along with their journey of growth through expressing authentic ideas to their fans is not seen as a priority. As this practice becomes repetitive, the music industry faces a large-scale reduction of authentic thought conveyed from artist to listeners.

Spotify’s algorithm-driven structure further enhances the shift toward corporate influence in the music industry, as its recommendation systems prioritize repetition over originality. Instead of exposing listeners to a diverse range of music, Spotify’s algorithm reinforces the dominance of top-charting hits by continuously feeding them back through curated playlists and autoplay features. This structure forces artists to conform to streaming-friendly formulas, prioritizing shorter track lengths and viral hooks to secure a place on major playlists. The emphasis on maximizing streams rather than crafting an artistic statement has caused a decline in album-oriented music, as artists are encouraged to focus on producing singles that align with algorithmic preferences rather than exploring creative risks. This practice will continue to lead to a stagnant cultural landscape where music is no longer dictated by artistic innovation but by corporate-approved formulas designed to maintain profitability.

In the New York Times article “Why Culture Has Come to a Standstill”, Jason Farago contrasts norms in varying time periods to argue that culture nowadays is heavily dependent on remake culture, which dilutes the originality of each era as a whole. The 1960s were defined by bell bottoms, tie-dye shirts, and the rise of folk music and color television (Wallace 1). The rise of music going visual because of the MTV channel, traces back to a clear place of origin, the 80s (Kennedy 1). With the normalization of remake culture, the arts, music and technological advancement seem to blend together. Similar to how we see a shift in music artists to abide by what has already been done by previous artists in alignment with a record label, Farago discusses how this shift is larger than the music industry, and applies to modern culture as a whole (Farago 2). Farago begins by discussing the imperative of modernism, which refers to the essential demand for modernist thought in reference to art, literature, architecture and philosophy. Modernism was driven by the urge to reject tradition and reflect on the rapid changes or advancements happening in the world (Farago 2). Farago mentions how the goal of modernism was to “no longer imitate the appearance of the outside world as faithfully as possible” (Farago 1). The goal of modernism was to rather “solder the next link in a cultural chain” and create something new without preexisting innovations serving as a starting point (Farago 1). Remake culture acts counterintuitively and begins to eliminate original thought from the process of creation. Farago characterizes our current society as existing in “ the least pioneering century for culture since the printing press” (Farago 1). Although there have been a countless amount of technological innovations, a vast supply of new content, and an increase in diverse creators alongside more global audiences, “twenty-three years in, shockingly few works of art are unassimilable to cultural and critical standards that audiences accepted in 1999” (Farago 1). Farago described how observing culture in 2023 felt like being “belted into some galactically slow Ferris wheel,” endlessly cycling through remakes with “nowhere to go but around” (Farago 1). This repetitiveness in creation begins to contribute to a culture that is likely to be forgotten, due to the lack of distinct perspective.

The most popular trends seen today are largely in correlation with algorithms produced by technology instead of with cultural significance. The top record of the year in 1984 was “When Doves Cry” by Prince. Prince was an artist who had an incomparable influence on culture through influencing fashion with his androgynous style, breaking norms on gender and sexuality, and challenging the music industry by fighting for artistic independence, even changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol in protest against record label control (Aswad 1). In contrast, the top song in 2022 was a single called “Heat Waves” which rose to fame due a TikTok tune which was constantly presented to social media users through generated algorithms designed to keep users hooked. This single belonged to a band called the Glass Animals who are a British alternative pop-group who remained largely unknown, with no significant traces to cultural impact (Farago 2). This shift highlights how modern music consumption prioritizes repetition and virality over lasting artistic influence. Instead of bold innovation or social commentary, mainstream music is now shaped by data-driven formulas that prioritize engagement over cultural identity.

As we “plunge through our screens into an infinity of information”, the line between past and present eras grows increasingly blurred (Farago 2). According to Farago, as the instinctive habit to refer to our technology as a resource for original thought grew, we began to submit to algorithmic recommendation engines and the “surveillance that powers them” (Farago 2). The digital tools that are widely supported as “catalysts of cultural progress” eventually grow to produce such “chronological confusion”, that this progress itself begins to lose clarity (Farago 3). Instead of years being seen as a division in cultural norms and ideas, they now simply serve as timestamps. In a society where everything is recorded and replicated, nothing is remembered and original thought begins to lose significance. This can result in memory becoming passive, with individuals not feeling the need to internalize information due to content being readily replicated. This can also lead to intellectual stagnation with original ideas simply becoming reinventions of already existing concepts, which is already evident in remake culture.

The music industry has increasingly shifted from a space of artistic freedom to one dictated by corporate interests, branding, and financial gain. Artists who once used their platforms to advocate for change and spark conversation are now encouraged to prioritize marketability over activism. The influence of record labels and major promoters has led to an industry where taking a stand on social or political issues is seen as a liability rather than a statement of purpose. A modern example of this shift is Neil Young’s protest against Spotify in 2022, where he removed his music from the platform in opposition to its promotion of vaccine misinformation (Millman 1). While Young’s decision conveyed the spirit of past musical activism, it also highlighted how rare such acts of defiance have become. Neil Young’s protest failed as Joe Rogan, despite spreading vaccine misinformation during COVID-19, secured a $250 million deal to distribute his podcast widely (Savage 1). Young mentioned how music services such as Apple, Amazon, and Tidal were now all providing access to the same misinformation he had initially opposed on Spotify (Savage 1). Young revealed how he “could not leave all those services” like he did Spotify, because his music would simply “have no streaming outlet to music lovers at all” (Savage 1). This ultimately led to Young’s return on Spotify and other music streaming platforms. The actions of Neil Young in response to Joe Rogan’s signing deal demonstrates how artists are often required to comply with the rapidly changing norms in the music industry, in order to be able to provide for their fans or earn any profit. If Neil Young had chosen to remain off Spotify and other streaming platforms, he would not be able to provide music for his fans due to streaming platforms being the primary source of music consumption today, with Americans spending roughly 6.7 billion hours listening to music per month in 2016 (Hwere 1). Since then music streaming services have only grown to become more widely used (Hwere 1). The prioritization of streaming platforms has led to a decline in record sales and concert attendance compared to previous decades. Artists who rely solely on streaming income are often forced to take on side hustles, shifting their personal identities into marketable brands and increasing corporate influence over the music industry (Bennett and Hudgins 1).

Unlike the Live Aid era, where music fueled grassroots movements, today’s activism is often filtered through corporate partnerships. Artists are no longer driving change firsthand but are shaped by branding and commercial interests. The rise of the “Super Concert” reflects this shift, reducing artists to marketable figures and casting doubt on how much influence they truly hold on modern culture.

Works Cited